


But We Come Home Instead

by ch3stpaynes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, It's not that massive of one, M/M, Piano bench sex, Smut one shot, There's some songwriting but it doesn't last very long, Wedding, Zayn and Liam are head over heels for eachother, ziam smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ch3stpaynes/pseuds/ch3stpaynes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam's ideas are brilliant most of the time. </p><p>They just go bad whenever Zayn's involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But We Come Home Instead

**Author's Note:**

> Saw that Ruth was engaged. Found an opportunity to add brutal smut into the plot idea which is so typically me, I just-
> 
> Anyway, this sure was fun to write and I suppose this could possibly be a sequel to 'Nicotine and Faded Dreams' ? Take it as you will, and I hope whoever reads this enjoys it a great deal as always!

"You're doing it again, mate."

Zayn's eyes linger up to meet Liam's. Brown oak and something like golden coins in this exact lighting. Sharpie rings for pupils and a contraction of size every time he blinks. He's got this expression like Zayn's a complete idiot (and maybe he is, but-) he's agitated. Uncomfortable on this couch leg while Liam sits, flicking piano keys and pouting everytime he comes up with noting. Zayn watches the way his fingertips scratch along the F over across to the H key and all together Liam sighs, pursing his lips because he's frustrated and-

Zayn's doing it again.

His fingernails are tracing up his forearm. Scratching, denting in along the new ink pinched under his skin. Checkered lines, filled or not, they all itch like bloody thorns and he  _can't_  focus like this.

Especially not when Liam's sitting there in some old raggedy sweats and a pearl white tank that's too tight around his stomach and-

_Fuck._

"S'just irritating," he mumbles, cracked humor in his voice because he's never been a wuss about fresh tats, but.

"Clearly." Liam drags his teeth to the side of his lip, clamps down and drums the pencil in he's got along his denim thigh.

The pattering drum of 'nothing new' echoing around Zayn's white walls.

And it's all too familiar.

"This is absolutely, officially not happening." Liam sighs, retired, laying back limp and knocking his head aimlessly along sinking cushions.

"Possibly." Zayn bites along his cheek, lifts a forefinger only to let it flick down along one of his piano's keys.

A ring like silver bells that dents the uninterrupted airflow and leaves a chilling tone.

"But? There is no upside, mate, I'm fucked." Liam gurgles at the ceiling, eyes fixed on the cracks that flick along the crusted layers.

"Momentarily," Zayn reminds before Liam can Drabble on about how his life is 'fucking over, Zayn, it's fucking over and I'm dragging you to Roo's with me to explain.'

"No, not momentarily," Liam lifts his chin, eyes dancing along Zayn's skinnies and working there way up. "Permanently."

Zayn snorts, amused. Something about the way Liam's fretting to the moon and back about a simple tune he's been at for months on end. No more than a poems length, or some sort of over the top and a little more haiku.

(Or just the same old melody with no words and unfortunately not a bridge in any definition whatsoever.)

But Liam's  _Liam_  and that's pretty self explanatory.

"S'not funny, Zayn, I'm so-"

"Fucked?" Zayn offers and he can catch the way Liam's frowning out of the corner of his eye sight.

"Exactly."

He sneers, tonguing at the crowns of his teeth, flicking a grin out past his lips and cool bones when Liam catches him. Eyeing the loose hoop of the sweater that hangs low along Zayn's collar bones. The black and red, faded around the edges, invested ink he knows is there. Yet he can't see it in his ray of vision and Liam's giving himself away.

"S'my favorite, uh, cool or summat?" He mumbles, drawing his eyes up quick but flickering them down again. Tracing over Ruffled, inky feathers.

"Or summat?" Zayn wonders, giggling into his shoulder.

"Yeah. Or summat." Liam repeats, swallowing with his Adam's apple bobbing hard behind tight stretched skin. His coffee blotched birthmark blinking at Zayn under thick stubble.

"So you're planning on having this sorted by when?" Zayn wonders, sinking along slippery leather.

Liam sighs, nibbling at his lips. "Yesterday."

Zayn nods, plucking at the seams in his jeans and figuring it's probably time he has a breath of fresh air.

Or nicotine, but they're the same thing in Zayn's head.

"You're here t' help, y'know." Liam mumbles, scrabbling over his lips and Zayn likes him like this.

Restless and reliable on, well, Zayn. Like he's going to save him from this endless struggle of creativity. And obviously that's not going to happen, but maybe he can do better.

He thinks about it, picking out the way Liam shifts every now and then, melting into the piano bench. The one without a pad that Harry had no room for and Zayn had all of his time to learn. Figuring out all of the keys by himself and being properly busted by Liam when he stumbled in earlier in the night, shaking his head and grinning like a devil. So much adoration and just general proudness in his eyes that Zayn dropped his melody and just giggled at his hands.

Before all of this became a chore and before Liam became a worrisome bother.

(Not really, because he could never be a bother, but-)

"Don't you mean  _you're here_. S'my house, babe." He pokes fun, biting at a laugh when Liam frowns.

"N'd what d'you expect me to do, babe?" Zayn wonders, kicking back, sinking into the cushions and digging around in his pockets for- what else.

"Support, maybe contribute, like?" Liam offers, carefully, "instead of sitting there n'd looking like a punk."

Zayn snorts, contorting and retrieving his pack of lucky strikes from his tight jeans pocket. Sniffling and slipping his lighter from his opposite tuck in. Placing the thin stuck between his lips, packed with death but he strikes the paper anyway, inhaling a slow and bumpy drag, exhaling out the window that's closer than he thought before.

Liam's eyes are low, lips quirking along ever grumbling, low cough that spins past Zayn's lips.

"More of a bad influence now." Liam pouts, playfully enough that Zayn doesn't feel guilty, but there's still doubt behind his California Oakland eyes. They're glossed over in a thin layer of daze and Zayn blinks down, puffing his cheeks and allowing the smoke from his last drag twirl in his lungs until he itches from the inside, blowing thick clouds past his faded, chapped lips.

"Always have been." He mumbles out between a breath of air. Or smoke. He can't tell.

"More or so. Second place, right beside Tommo." Liam argues, lifted brow while he fiddles with the beaded ropes tied along his waist, hidden behind duvet soft Cotton.

"Tommo fancies bare dick and birds, which is never a good mix, mate." Zayn cracks a smile, flicking his forefinger along the ember crowding along his lit fag. Ashes catchin along the open window and he can catch the way Liam's eyes pop.

"S'metal trimmings, Li. No bother." Zayn reassures, some emotion like  _calmness_  and overwhelming tranquility floating through his bloodstream the same second Liam breathes in. His chest rising and Zayn holds his eyes on perky buds that seem to harden through his thin tank.  _A draft_ , Zayn thinks, but absentmindedly he knows otherwise.

There's a curly forest of, cork brown chest hair that hovers barely above his tanned chest, bulging arms that Zayn twitches at and he fucking loves  _this_  Liam.

Not just physically, because Liam's fit and everyone who breathes can tell that. But because he's so busted over his own priorities that he's joking into his every word. And that's more Zayn's speed. Always has been more or less. Fun. Especially when Liam's mumbling about feeling a little ill or how his quiff is styled up hard as stone because Lou's gone overboard with hairspray and Zayn doesn't hear him, (or maybe he doesn't entirely care) because he's too busy listening to the sound of his full mouth take inch after inch of thick, beefy-

"Speaking of him-" Liam begins and Zayn snickers smokily, sputtering as he flicks his index along a drafty opening.

"Baby daddy, right?" Zayn finishes, lifting a brow at astonished Liam. "Poor asshole told me, called me up all nervous. Never heard anything so rich in me life."

Liam frowns, scratching up along the stubble curling his jaw, pouting his lip out sympathetically. "I thought it proper sad."

Zayn snorts, sitting up, "sad he can't keep his dick in his pants?"

"You can't either." Liam points out, sluggishly, hot cheeks as he breaks contact.

"Don't have to," Zayn shrugs, lazily, "can't exactly knock  _you_  up, babe."

He knows he's done it, then. The way Liam's cheeks flare like fireworks overhead London on the Fourth of July. The way he's lip gets sucked under his tip and it stays put for seconds at a time. The way he shifts and balances himself and tries to turn himself away but he fucking sucks at hiding himself when he's flustered.

Always has.

"Zayn." He quivers his lip, reaching up to play with the keys on Zayn's keyboard, but he doesn't make it far.

" _Leeyum_." Zayn drags out, teasing. Licking at his teeth and stuffing away an awful grin into his shoulder when Liam eyes him from his seat, finally.

"Quit it," he mumbles, still shaky.

"What?" Zayn wonders, mediocre oblivious and Liam sighs, defeated.

"Just, like-"

"Mentioning fuckin' ya?" Zayn bites at his tongue, thickening out his accent like molasses and caramel taffy.

Liam's fingers twitch along the keys and it's just enough of a slip to play a chilling key. A sound the masks, Zayn's sure, a sound he can label as a whimper. Dog-like that fits perfectly into Liam's throat.

He likes this.

No, he  _really_  fucking likes this.

How Liam's so doe-eyed and soft hearted in  _the_  world but a fucking  _bulldozer_  with his dick in  _theirs_. The patterns, when he's fucking Zayn and they're too drunk off of each other and the fancy wine Zayn keeps stored away for  _Liam nights_. The nights he remembers faded in his head and the nights he aches from one way or another. Those pornographic sounds that he makes when he's fucked just right or when Liam gags, like some amateur fresh into university with years of experimental nights ahead of him.

But he's not.

He sucks Zayn like it's his profession and he's eye-rollingly good. Post orgasmic memories with just a spark of thought.

"Why is it again you can't take a break?" Zayn wonders, furrowing his brows and sucking in the last of his cigarette. Puffing the smoke down his throat and holding it captive deep in his lungs. Exhaling when Liam builds up his confidence and begins to twiddle his lashes, making contact.

"We've procrastinated enough. You know Roo's expecting the world and-"

"You did that to yourself, mate." Zayn reminds, flattening himself out.

"I know, never said I couldn't give it to her, I've got the right tools." Liam says, sniffling at the keys under his fingertips. Note after note and then repetitive keys until there's nothing. Two sets, that Zayn knows.

"And me," Zayn adds in, pinching his eyes, "f'r support. Cheer you on n'd such."

"All you've done is make comments about me dick." Liam mutters, rolling his eyes and curving his spine back.

"Exactly, babe." Zayn smirks, brushing his fingertips up along his hairline. "No fault in trying, yeah?"

Liam shifts, resting his hand on his thigh and adjusting himself when he thinks Zayn isn't looking.

He is.

"Gettin' proper stiff f'r me?" Zayn wonders, ashing out his cig along the metal framing, leaving it to smoke itself out. He'll get to it later.

Liam doesn't answer, he tugs along his lip and Zayn keeps his gaze strong, unbreakable.

"S'mad. Just my words, man." He says, impressed by himself, impressed by how he can actually see Liam's cock fattening up behind the soft, thin cotton joggers he's got loose around his waist.

"Bet you could come with just my encouragement and maybe some-"

" _Zayn_." Liam whimpers, his eyes barley open with parted lips and he looks so blissed out. So willing.

"Take 'em off, Li, c'mon." Zayn indicates with his head, nodding at Liam and he's covering his stiff dick behind his palm, quirking his lip as he us s his left hand to pinch at the elastic waistband. And Zayn doesn't laugh at him. He's too mesmerized.

"You've got weeks and we've got  _now_. Ya can manage a rest, yeah?" Zayn wonders from his still spot feet away, shuffling in the sinking chair.

"Rest." Liam repeats comically, grunting at Zayn and slipping his joggers down, tent briefs and not enough wetness behind Zayn's tongue.

"Gonna make it good, babe." Zayn promises, eyeing the way Liam's briefs lift and outline every spare detail of his rigid cock.

"Stroke a few off, then." He adds, adjusting himself through his skinnies when Liam lowers his head to fling at his briefs band. It's tight, so tight around his waist and Zayn aches restricted behind his own.

And Liam's not as hesitant as Zayn expected. He's quick and speedy when he lets his thick dick flop like a rubber mold along his lower stomach. He's got patchy hair, messy like Zayn's in the morning curling around his base. Trailing down along his balls and up again to his belly and winding along his nipples.

Zayn can spot the springy line when Liam pushes his tank up and huffs, lightly.

Pulled back foreskin as he stares at his own cock. Revealing a rose head and rubbing his damp lips along one another. And he looks-

 _Like a fucking pornstar_ , Zayn thinks, batting his lashes.

Liam lifts his eyes, confidently, dark pupils and Zayn can barley spot the chocolate ring around them in this shady light. It isn't a lustful gaze, it's more of a 'Come over here and suck me off' gaze that Zayn grins at, staying put and watching him.

Watching him tug at his lip. Watching him start from his tight sack all the way to the slit of his dick, rubbing slow circles and Zayn loves every part about how comfortable he is.

How Liam fits in like  _this_. This special place where only the two of them exist.

This place that no one else could ever weasel into because they've built their own little kingdom with a passcode, because Liam's a dork. Always has been.

Except for when he's got Zayn wet in his boxers by stroking his rock length, oozing his head like a paint tube.

Because this is a  _different_  kind of special.

And Zayn's always completely  _loved_  it.

"Look at you." Zayn comments, caught in an admiring stare that lasts too long. Gauzed cheeks because he can't swallow when- well,  _fucking Liam_.

"You're so beautiful, just- just fucking look at you, man." Zayn slips the words out before Liam can wince. He's too good at that.

Convincing himself the worlds too good for him.

"Feel good?" Zayn wonders, switching the subject instantly.

Liam nods, gnawing at his bottom lip and Zayn shifts himself for the third, fourth, fifth time, rutting himself into the couch and pressing his palm along his restrained dick.

Everything's so tight but all he wants to do is watch.

Observe Liam because moments like these are rare like comets and he won't miss a second.

"I like-" Liam begins to say, exhaling shakily, "like when you watch."

Zayn's breath catches roughly under his tongue and he swallows hard. Shards of glass that scrape mercilessly in his throat as he drops his eyes to Liam's red tip, a fucked slit with sputtering pre-cum all over his head and a little more.

"Yeah?" Zayn wonders, crinkling his nose.

"Yeah." Liam breathes out, huffing.

"Think you can come like this? Me watching you?" Zayn asks, purely curious because he wasn't aware just how steamy this image really is.

His iron man t-shirt is old and splitting out holes but it's sticking to his torso yet he won't move.

Liam nods, eyes picked shut and Zayn draws shaky fingers along his zipper, loosening the fabric around his hips and slipping a hand under when he can manage.

His cock is hot, a trapped, oxygen begging appendage that he sighs at when air not to much cooler hits his tip. It's refreshing in a way he doesn't entirely understand, yet Liam's tossing himself off and Zayn's ready to nut all over his new leather cushions.

But he doesn't mind.

Not now.

"I think, like, I've thought about this." Liam admits, suddenly, leaving Zayn to double over and jerk his fingers up, tugging along his damp shaft. Back down again as he cups along patchy balls and fondles himself to Liam's words.

They're so simple but they have Zayn coating his fingertips with translucent pre-cum. A proper mess in the making.

"Yeah? All bare arsed on me new piano bench with that magic cock of yours out. All wet and fucked over f'r me?" Zayn taunts, harmlessly, plucking at the edges of his jeans and lowering, lowering, lowering them further away from his erect prick.

"Yeah, just-" Liam stutters, "jus' so hard for you, man. S'Unbelievable how much m'into it."

Zayn rocks his hips up, collecting sticky coverage and coating himself over, improvisation while Liam uses one hand to slick his cock up and the other to curl lower, right beneath his tight balls and-

Fuck.

He's circling his rim, tracing the nail of his pointer along a tight, furry ring and Zayn almost busts when Liam lifts his arse up higher, like he wants to be fucked.

Like he wants to be fucked like this right here.

"Go on," Zayn encourages, nodding his head and Liam cracks his eyes open, fuzzy like before plucking his index in, deeper, sinking.

He winces, almost instantly, like this is all new.

It isn't.

Liam's red in the cheeks and Zayn can tell he's puckering tight around his finger, stretching already because it's been far too long for the both of them.

Too many shows around the world while Zayn sits cooped up with Caroline, a few of his studio mates, Ant and Chris and the occasional Brooklyn brought in by Tom.

But distance isn't now. Now is  _now_  and Liam's got a mic of different sorts fitted into his palm.

"Burns," Liam mutters, clicking his teeth together, hard. Sucking at his lips like salted taffy.

"Bet I could make it feel better," Zayn dares to interrupt, "lick you out, right, babe? You'd like that, huh?"

Liam nods, he doesn't pause or comprehend. He flows with it, eagerly. Bucking his hips up, focusing on his prick, plucking his index from his tight crack. Sniffling at the air. Zayn tucks his cock away, barely, standing and slapping his bare feet along frigid wooden floors. Kneeling himself in front of Liam and gnawing away at the inside of his cheek when Liam blinks down at him, tears in the corners of his eyes from too much squinting.

Crinkles by his mouth that vanish when he shapes his lips into an 'O.'

"You want to, right?" Zayn wonders, lifting his eyebrows and keeping his hands by his sides.

"If you, like, um," Liam stutters, flustered.

"I offered, love." Zayn says, softly, trying to fix that rough patch of embarrassment Liam still finds room for somewhere buried behind his chest.

It's there, like a knot and Zayn's working, ever so slowly on breaking it up and out becuase, well-

(Liam's too involved to push away and Zayn finds it sort of horrifying, but he isn't denying the fact he's head over-

-and perhaps a little bit more he'll only admit when Liam's drilling him hard, pressed up along his shower wall with scrape marks up his thighs, red like blood orchids and too many love drunk slurs.)

"You know I don't mind. Like the taste of ya'. Like sweetart sours." Zayn smirks up at him, licking over his lips because he might as well swallow Liam's cock while he's here. It's shiny under these studio lights and he doesn't mind the glare of pre-cum swiped along hardwood seating.

He'll take this any day of the week.

"Toss off," Liam begs, whimpering like Loki when Liam neglects him of bacon bits or puppy puffs.

"Toss you off?" Zayn questions, humorously, ignoring the way Liam cracks one eye open, blissed out but only momentarily interrupted. "Like this, too."

He leans forward, licking a stripe up the underside of Liam's erect prick, lining his nose up with sensitive skin and pressing his lips under LIam's beat head. A leaking slit he takes care of with one swipe of his wet tongue.

Liam shudders almost instantly and Zayn absorbs the quake into his skin like   
sunscreen, or anti-acne cream when he was 17 and self conscious and Liam was an oblivious mop head with nice, plump lips and similar interests in superheroes.

And Zayn keeps those memories, and everything in between trapped up somewhere too special to dig up.

"Good?" Zayn asks, pausing and Liam nods, vigorously.

"Yeah, s'good."

Zayn bows his head, staying quiet and starting from the tip and down, down, down, lapping at Liam's tight, suspended balls, biting at his lip and catching small scents of mannish musk that scratches at his nostrils, but he finds it  _so_ easing and the way Liam's so comfortable above him makes it the more withstand-able.

He laps, fully at the back of Liam's cock, curling his tongue and pressing his lips down on his head, sinking lower and holding a steady posture as he takes him a god half point. Letting his cheeks puff and his tongue to flick at loose skin.

And Liam- well, he's wriggling, jittery with his left leg as he taps his socks along the wood, groaning at the ceiling and Zayn can feel his soft fingertips tracing into his skull, burying themselves in thick, gelled up silver locks that are so stiff and projected they're like porcupine spikes and Zayn blames Caroline entirely.

"You're like, so heavy on my tongue, dude. S'proper hot." Zayn mumbles, pulling away and keeping his fingers pressed into Liam's girthy base.

"Wanna,  _fuck_ , wanna feel you in me." Liam pushes out through gritted teeth, barreling along a typical groan. Like he's so easy to get off, but he holds off for Zayn's benefit.

Because he wants to.

"Yeah, babe? Slick ya' up with my tongue and just-" Zayn cuts off, expecting Liam to finish, but he doesn't and his eyes are pinched, barely open as he stares, hooded eyes down at Zayn. Expectant. Like he's waiting patiently for that feeling that draws goosebumps along his skin.

Zayn bumps his lip along the underside of Liam's balls and he feeds off of the whimper that curls along his ears. The kind that Liam releases like knock out gas and Zayn's eyelids weigh in heavy. He likes the dreary feeling and he's lazy with his tongue and the way he bends the tip under rough skin.

Liam's leaning himself up on his elbows, an uncomfortable surface of smooth, hard wood beneath him, but Zayn flicks extra hard around his puckering rim to ease his mind. He moves his hands, gently, near agilely from Liam's thighs down to either side of his arse cheeks. Stretching on either side to split him open, a full show for Zayn to slobber all over and he decides, rather quickly, he'd like to take a more messy route. One where he laps, carelessly, splintering Liam's bones and getting him _loud_.

So he doesn't exactly hesitate. That's not the right word for how he approaches this. He buries his chin along the curve of Liam's asshole, flicking his tongue barely at first, but Liam's moaning, full on, spine-chilling  _moaning_  and Zayn loves it.

His cock is tented in his boxer briefs and he slurps, kisses rather loudly,  _animal like_ , he thinks pornographically as he wettens Liam's skin shiny.

This boyish taste of tangy sizzle that crackles on his tongue and he leans forward, bumping his left hand to his dick, fulfilling that wiring need for friction against himself.

"Don't want- fuck, Zayn. Don't want t' like. Want you." Liam utters, fucked over by pleasure and buzzing bliss.

"Want me t' fuck you? Here on Harry's piano bench? Reckon he'll prefer I'll keep it, then." Zayn mutters, mostly to himself, getting off on the filthy truth because it's just so dirty to think about and he's itching to feel suffering heat wrapped around his prick.

"Balance ya out on the wood, yeah? Stretch you real good, babe?"

Liam's whimpering, his lips are trembling and his knees are still bent, static socks slipping along the bench but he keeps them firm when Zayn fumbles with his belt.

"Wait, like, wanna," Liam lifts his head, wrinkling his brow and sucking at his lip like sugar. "Wanna blow you."'

Zayn doesn't hide the smirk that pinches at the corners of his lip, honestly.

"Get ya dick all wet, right? So you c'n fuck me easy. Precise like the first time?" Liam mumbles, this barrier of embarrassment behind his words like he's thinking the exact same thing Zayn is.

This clouded memory of sticky sheets and not enough air in that hotel room somewhere on the West coast of the United States. Or maybe it was the East. Zayn can't exactly remember details like those when Liam was rabbit fucking him into the duvet, denting the covers and potentially soiling the covers according to some wiki page pulled up by a panicked Liam, sputtering about how they've done it in for themselves and " _were never going to be allowed to bunk together again, Zayn, we're through_."

This never ending sizzle of humor and red-cheeked giggles the next morning tucked under each other's sore limbs. Bruises in all of the right places and curious stares from Lou and even Caroline when Liam refused to wear a tank top for the next few public appearances.

Back during the good days.

The ones where they were merely two specs in an over the head struggle for freedom and independence and just ruthless shagging in between every break.

(And Zayn thinks that sounds about properly accurate for them.)

"If you can hold it, dunno if you're planning to bust soon, but I'd like t' suck you off." Liam says, slowly, shakily and dumbly with his hands.

And Zayn would be an absolute idiot to say no.

Especially when Liam's desperate, clawing at the sanded wood and begging with those bloody beautiful coffee eyes.

The dopey ones he reserves for sexual pleadings like now.

Only it's not exactly a pleading because Zayn's got his skinnies shucked like corn peelings before he can suck in his next breath.

Liam comes first, mostly because he's a king with his lips and a sport with his mouth and thinking about his tongue gets Zayn stiff in seconds.

No-  _less_.

"Miss it, c'mon, just whip it out, dude. Wanna _soak_ you." Liam adds, nibbling at his own teeth. Eager.

Zayn nods, shifting his hands, "love hearing you like that."

His fingers are dug into his briefs, wrapping around his thick shaft, plump like his own lips, tanned over, matching the rest of his skin and he sighs at the rush of air from the open window that blows windingly along his sensitive skin.

Liam's swallowing, sitting up and placing his hand along the base, thumb curling under Zayn's balls, flicking his eyes up and pressing his index along the front side, tangled in a thatch of dark, low trimmed hair.

"You look good like this, like, hunched ov'r me dick." Zayn mumbles, quietly, sucking in harshly when Liam licks over his lip, flicking his tongue up at Zayn's tip and it feels-

Well, fucking legendary.

This sensation that's twenty times better with Liam. It's always been Liam. No comparison, really. There doesn't  _need_  to be.

He presses his lips lightly, puckering around the tip and sucking, just sucking like its his job. Slobbering over Zayn's dick, taking more, more, more too fast and Zayn's lungs won't wait up for him.

"Love the way you spit at just my tongue. S'just a lick, Zayn and you're proper slick."

" _Leeyum_ ," Zayn Bucks his hips, rummaging his fingers through Liam's messy hair. It's product-less. Nothing but ginger shampoo and aftershave because it's Sunday.

 _Shave Sunday_  because Liam's an absolute nerd.

(And Zayn won't ever admit he follows the same routine, silently from the bathroom just up the set of stairs behind the piano room doors.)

Liam's not cat-licking, he's slurping, returning the favor and working his wrist, stickily and coming close to brush his nose along Zayn's groin. Hands on both of his hips, nuzzling his quiff along that infamous ' _don't think I won't_ ' printed in faded ink along Zayn's lower torso.

A memory like their first blowjob in some closet in the Rockefeller Center after Late Night. Liam a fidgety mess as he sucked Zayn off, blinking and giggling at the tattoo with every sniffle.

"That's it, love," Zayn groans, filthily, pressing his tongue along the roof of his mouth and biting at his tongue because he'll regret speaking when Liam takes him full on.

"Thought about, like, thought about you, or I was tossing off a few days ago looking at, um," Liam stutters and Zayn finds it hot. Especially when he's slurping on his bare cock.

"Spill it," Zayn hums, blissed out.

"Fuck. I nutted off to your Instagram picture? Like, the one with the smoke and you had your shirt off, like a proper babe n'd you just looked so raw and fuckin' bare and I wanted to taste you- like I am now, right?" Liam huffs, breathing hot and steamy along Zayn's underside. "Got me off so quick, I just-"

"Liam,  _fuck mate_." Zayn sucks in a sharp breath, it punctures his lungs and he gnaws along his lip. "I'm gonna bust in your mouth if m'honest."

Liam gulps, licking small circles along Zayn's Fiery tip covered in spit. He's humming, sending vibrations to every sense in Zayn's body. Invisible pre-cum bubbling from his slit. And Liam doesn't miss a drop.

Not one.

"Think you can? Wanna like, want to feel you cov'r me." Liam admits, shamefully, Bowing his head but keeping steady strokes, the soft ones he gives Zayn when is cheeks are too tired or when he needs to breathe because Liam takes dick like-

 _Farrah Abraham_ , Zayn thinks, swallowing down every bit of laughter stored in his lungs because he won't compare Liam to her when he's bare and raw and vulnerably- cute?

He doesn't like the word particularly. Not stuck onto an instance like this, but-

Zayn nearly busts when he feels Liam scape his first teeth so gently along the mushroom rim of his head that his spine bends and his legs stretch back like limbo.

"You're,  _fuck,_  you don't mind? If I, y'know-"

"Spurt up in me mouth? Do it." Liam finishes, confidently, this flip flop of attitude that's so fucking hit Zayn comes. Hot and heavy drops, his cock spasming like a fish out of water. Lips dry and jaw cocked back along with his neck as Liam aims his base, tip up.

He doesn't open his eyes, not for a few seconds at least. He can only hear himself and the sounds passing up past his tongue, the ones that roll off and end in a slight squeeze to his dick by Liam.

And eventually Zayn does- open his eyes. Only he's tugging at his lip with his upper teeth because Liam's drenched in semen.

_Zayn's._

And it's so- fuck, he's got come dripping down his nose and splattered specs of white up his left cheek. A pool of sticky remains close to the rim of his right eye and he looks so filthy blinking up at Zayn like he's  _so_ new to this and Zayn finds that- well,  _bloody fucking hot_.

More steamy than post-concert showers with a hand full of peppermint body wash and a night full of sore thighs and scratched backs.

"You look so pretty like this." Zayn comments, breathless, stomach rising and falling as he runs a hand through Liam's quiff. His forehead is clean and his hair feels soft along Zayn's skin, his lips trembling under the touch and Zayn swears if he blinked, he would have missed Liam's pink tongue swiping up to curl at his upper lip.

This devilish swipe that Zayn's knees buckle over.

He backs away, pressing his palms into his thighs and sitting hijacked up straight. Liam's eyes are expectant and he can't actually-

"You want me- like? You want to?" Zayn wonders, his cock like a dumb bell that begins to weigh down, down, down and perk up every time he catches sight of Liam's spread legs.

"If you're m, um, you're up for it?" Liam stutters, sniffling and itching along his bare belly.

Zayn doesn't have to think it over. He plans on pleasure and time and just Liam for the next few hours, days,  _years_ , he thinks, ridiculously.

Yet somehow he knows  _this_  will come back around.

It always does.

Especially when Liam's easy and stressed and willing. Fresh off of some pane from across the globe. Some busy lad he is with not enough time on his hands until now. Now because the world doesn't expect him for a while and that may just be in Zayn's favor.

Zayn staggers forward, skinnies tied around his ankles like rope and he grins, pathetically, pressing his thumbs into the innards of Liam's thighs and nodding his head as a signal. One he doesn't have to order because Liam knows all too well.

"Am I fucking up for it." Zayn grumbles, intriguingly slow. Like he's questioning the matter himself even though he knows plenty that he'll be balls deep in scratching heat before dawn.

"Why don'cha tell me, Li. Does it look like m'up for it?" Zayn wonders, his hard dick flat against his abdomen, a sticky base that he doesn't bother dealing with. Liam with one leg suspended as far as he's willing to go with the other propped up on the narrow bench. Eyes like Apple farms and October and he's so into it Zayn fidgets a hand down, thumbing over his slit and shifting forward. Squeezing gently, like paint tubes whenever he's feeling creative- at the head of his prick while he oozes out a fair amount of pre-cum.

(Or what they're going to be using for lubrication because Zayn's a lazy fuck and he;s not backing away when he's ready to nut off for the second time in ten minutes. Not now, not ever.)

"Looks like-" Liam stutters, cutting his words off when he feels that contact of Zayn's tip along his rim. He isn't impossibly sewn up. Zayn knows this from earlier, and Liam does to. So maybe that's why he looks so daring and ready, ready, ready for it all.

"Fuck, just do it. Slide in already, mate. M'not gonna hold off if ya keep stalling." Liam rushes out along a whimper, knocking his head back when Zayn steadies his body, pressing forward, slow, steady, gradually.

And he can feel that first layer sink back when he shoves himself in. Not all the way, no. Liam's got his nose crinkled and he's doing- "so good, babe. S'like- c'n already feel it in me balls."

Liam's lip trembles and Zayn gets this rush of stunning adrenaline. Some source he can't particularly name, but it's there and he leans forward, gripping the skin along Liam's inner thigh and holding himself up, feet pressed into the hardwood. Recently washed and scrubbed, but Zayn can't care in the least. Not like this.

"Thought the scissoring would do ya' some justice, dude." Zayn quenches out, hoarsely.

"Thought wrong." Liam responds quickly, jerking his head to the side suddenly, "fucking- Zayn, just-"

"Want it all?" Zayn wonders, pausing, pulsing inside Liam's heat and it feels-

_Beyond compare._

Liam nods, gnawing at his cotton pink lips.

"Think ya' c'n take it? My whole dick. Fucking you right, yeah?" Zayn hums, filthily, bending lower to Liam's chest. He swears he can hear that rabbit heart beat and he pushes a little further, invading, slipping up and he'll bottom out any minute if he's memorized Liam's anatomy anywhere close to correct.

"Shag me, Zayn, just do it, mate." Liam begs, stealthily trying to shift down on Zayn's dick, lifting his hips.

And Zayn just fucks inward, rough. Burying his whole dick deep inside devilish heat. Radiating swarms of electricity that wind up his stiff shaft and plummet into his stomach with a reflective bounce. His spine is like electricity and he rides out that first pump with a groan whisked along his teeth.

"Want it rough? Want me dick like this?" Zayn asks, stuttering his hips and backing up halfway, slipping inside Liam's asshole just as quick and easy. A beating pulse he counts along until Liam nods violently.

He wants it. Like,  _really fucking wants it_.

Zayn sucks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, sliding easily inward, splitting Liam up and he can feel the pressure tugging at his balls when he presses firmly along Liam's round arse.

He loves that view, the view beneath his nose, where he can't see anything but his swallowed dick. Liam's sack hanging low above Zayn's base with red and heated skin. His own dick is bouncing, side to side along his belly every time Zayn dips in. Liam's nipples, rosey red and perked up hard and figured. Biceps like a professional gymnast because Liam's so fit even when he's skipped the gym and decided on kips and cartoons and maybe a skype call with Zayn when they're too far apart for this. His arms are suspended, as a pillow underneath his head, Zayn reckons generally. Springy hairs that curve under his arms and trail to his upper sides. This signal of ridiculous masculinity and Zayn finds it all so fiery hot in this moment.

He's driving out again, then pressing inward, then out and he falls into this rhythm that Liam's only cringing minimally at. The crinkle sby his eyes are indented slightly and Zayn traces them with his own eyes, memorizing the patterns and twiddling his fingers down, lightly along Liam's neglected cock. Beat red, slipping along his stomach with streaks of pre-cum smeared along his abdomen.

He's lingering ghost finger tips over Liam's shaft when-

"No." Liam wedges his eyes open, swallowing down a grunt, "think I c'n, like, thick I c'n come without it."

Zayn moves his hand away slow, thrusting  _slower_ , furrowing his eyebrows and blinking away the drop of sweat that glides down past his nose. "Yeah?"

Liam nods, silent, the creak of steady wood along even steadier floor and Zayn shrugs, nonchalantly.

"Just my cock?" Zayn wonders, speeding up and Liam's lips part, eyes pinched into a squint.

"Read about it, like-  _fuck_. S'pose t' be ten times more pleasurable, right?" Liam offer up, wincing when Zayn stuffs himself deep.

"Ten times more sticky," Zayn says, humorously, stuttering his hips because- Liam's done research on this and that's so-

His hips stutter and he feels an electrifying pulse against his lower abdomen, "gonna hose me down, Payno?"

Liam grins, stuffing it away into his sweaty shoulder, keeping his hands pinned behind his bedraggled hair.

And Zayn feeds off of the look in his eye. This brush of beyond desireable lust he feels spike him deep in his veins and he adores it, really.

And It's some time between Liam's next uncomfortable shift and Zayn's next hip thrust that he hits Liam's core hard enough to pump his heart for him. He's so connected and so driven and Liam's eyes bulge wide, his neck cranes and Zayn takes the cue just like-

"Fuckin' look atcha'" he grunts, driving his cock deep, this sticky slap with every hit. "Takin' my prick so well, aren't ya, Leeyum?"

He can hear Liam's tonguing, chewing at his cheeks, holding down his whimpers and groans and Zayn shakes his head, huffing, "don't,  _fuck_ , Liam. Get loud for me."

Liam gulps, drowning out his adam's apple and just humming sinfully along Zayn's words.

"Wan't me t' get you loud? Fuck you like-" He circles his hips, bending himself close, closing his chest along Liam's and leaning n close to his neck, sliding his abdomen along damp skin, fury skin. "This?"

Liam groans, finally, and it's like a fucking air horn, growing louder with every shove Zayn sentences him to. Every push of his dick that circles along Liam's glands and Liam can see the rising level and build up of deterioration in Liam's slitted eyes. He's slumped upward now, shoulder blades in the air while his lower back strains along Zayn's dick.

He's whimpering like a pup, hazy, glossed over eyes and Zayn smirks, "that's it, lad."

Liam's sputtering, grinding himself down on Zayn, taking thick meat like he's a pro. Rubbing his nose up along Zayn's jawline and he doesn't miss the sizzling opportunity to steal a kiss. Wet along Liam's upper cheek and his eyes are so young when Zayn meets them.

Young and adventurous and so  _beyond_  lovesick.

He seems proud, boundlessly when he kisses back, rough, sliding his tongue against Zayn's bottom lip and prying further.

Zayn doesn't reject, he swirls his tongue back, nipping at Liam's bottom lip and dragging himself up Liam's body. "Missed this like hell, man."

Liam doesn't respond, he's tossing about, nearly thrashing, but Zayn's got him pinned. "Loving you for real, fucking you good."

Liam whines, lifting his chin to suck along Zayn's neck, stretching his tongue out along the salted skin. Melting.

He's so wrecked like this and Zayn's in love with it. The slippery grasp he has on the curve of Zayn's arse when he rabbit, jackhammer fucks into Liam like he's in between his last breath. These emphasized moans Zayn's so hard for because Liam mewls like an angel calling and Zayn won't ever take that back.

"Think m'getting there," Liam mumbles somewhere skidded next to Zayn's furious build up. He's slamming, repeatedly, like some desperate, horny teenager, fitting in a five minute shag before band practice.

"Yeah, love?" Zayn asks, dazed, propping his mouth open when he curves himself up, "think you'll make it?"

Liam shakes his head, "dunno."

He looks rickety, his posture tinted, his back twisted to the side it's like he's  _so_  gone he's almost  _here_. Finding that pulse buried deep inside his arse.

"If you've gotta, like- do it, babe. Just do it." Zayn reassures, slowing down only to puff, suck in a deep breath and fuck deep, curl his toes into the floor and scrape his nails into Liam's skin. Mesmerized. Focused intently.

He can feel his balls tied, slipping along The curve of Liam's arse. This puncture of bliss that pinches at Zayn's hips and he swears when he looks up he can see the walls melting around them. Burning hot like a shooting star or the end of the world and he'd fade out like this if he had to.

"Think m'like, think m'gonn-" Liam stutters, shifting down and keeping his hands pinned one behind his head as the other works along his torso, but never his dick.

"Shoot off, mate, c'mon. Good lad" Zayn's voice rasps and Liam brunches, thrashing.

Zayn watches, pounding, the way Liam's prick twitches, untouched, neglected but he can feel Liam shaking and clenching and it's so familiarly  _there_  when he spurts, squirting off along his chest and Zayn groans deep, fucking explicitly, when he follows Liam's covers chin, his own Coke splattered along his skin like sunscreen in July and Zayn just-

He's jackhammering, slapping his hips and his grip is slippery but he pulls through like he has to, stalling his hips and spilling roughly, Liam's arse drawing his load from him. Sucking his peak from his own rod and it's so prodigiously enjoyable. This wash of pleasure the sweeps through Zayn's blood and throws him off balance.

But he's still stuffed deep and Liam sits up a little, panting, chest rising and falling and Zayn lets Liam squeeze right around his wrapped cock because there's come dribbling into his belly button and jizz streaked along his pecks.

"Fucking hell," Zayn huffs, fucked off this scene. And he knows every time he closes his eyes he'll see Liam, bare and come streaked, panting like he's run a few marathons.

"You're still squeezing 'round me, man, s'hot as fuck." Zayn breathes, lowering himself again, rubbing his nose along Liam's. Soft lips plump along his cheek with the way he's sprawled down, still packaged deep inside tense heat.

"Think-" Liam begins, grinning and wincing in the same second, "don't think 've ever nutted so hard without me hands, like."

"Did so good, can feel it in me toes." Zayn hums, breathing hotly.

Liam stays quiet and Zayn melts into his skin with every second, boiling and just alive with feeling. Pins and needles in his legs but he figures they'd better break off and finish what Liam came to originally complete.

(No, not fuck aimlessly into the night, although-)

Zayn steadied himself because Ruth won't be exactly pleased if her wedding song has anything to do with watering eyes and a sore arse.

Although he'd cackle the whole time with Liam nestled under his shoulder, drawing circles into his skin.

 

===

 

The sun is high over Wolverhampton the following weekend.

Late Fall, frigid weather but Zayn's tucked away into a firm suit, picked out by Caroline and a ridiculous pink tie that Brooklyn pointed at and wouldn't come near Zayn until he had it knotted around his neck. Which he isn't completely pissed over because Louis isn't being a complete asshole and Harry keeps swearing " _s'more of a light lavender, bro_."  
  
And he feels better entirely.

The setting is white and white and  _snowflake flurry_ , because Ruth insisted and Zayn doesn't exactly see the difference, but Liam shoves at his shoulder every time he questions the shade. Small pinches to his hip every time he snickers at a sobbing Karen who's slipping into the bathroom every five minutes to wipe away at her tears and small pecks to his cheek whenever he compliments  _the song_.

The one they finally worked up sometime at 3 in the morning the night before last with short kips between each line and maybe a few toss off's whenever Liam began to stress out of his own head. Reassuring patterns into the beginning of his spine, under his thin jumper and nuzzles into a bark stained birthmark Zayn's been obsessed with tracing ever since they were 16.

But it all came out, well-

"Utterly beautiful." Niall chokes up from beside them when the sun begins to swallow itself and the moon creeps up slowly behind the isle set.

"Really, Payno. S'a good tune." Louis nudges from the other side, surrounded.

Perfect.

"Can't sell me all the credit." Liam mumbles, like Zayn knew he would, under his own chin, chewing at his cheek and Zayn presses his fingers into Liam's side, grinning along his ear.

"Of course he can't, you punks." Ruth pops in from close by, Tom tied to her wrist and Zayn smiles, genuinely, he can't help it.

"M'sure curly head here couldn't have wrote that beauty on his own." She adds, humorously, nodding her head lightly at Zayn. "This fucker had something to do with it, betcha' fifty pounds."

"Right, sure Zaynster just sat there and sucked Liam off while he played that new piano of yours." Niall cackles, unknowing and Zayn presses the giggle he has ready to spit out under his tongue.

Liam nudges him and he keeps entirely quiet while Ruth shakes her head. Letting Tom loose suddenly and leaning in close to Zayn's ear.

"M'already regretting this love ceremony of bullshit, so whenever this asshole gets the courage to propose. You come have a chat and a good old lime beer with me, yeah?" She whispers, comically, throwing in a wink when Liam notices the miniature interaction.

"Wouldn't miss it," Zayn says, lowly, keeping his eyes away from Liam's.

"And I loved the melody, Li. More than spectacular." She shouts, backing up and nearly tripping over her own dress. This long extravagant wedding gown that's overly pricy but Zayn won't judge her for a minute because she looks properly gorgeous.

"Sick piano skills, too, man!" Tom shouts, calling with his hands and cackling when Ruth pulls him away, choppily.

"That'd be my piano," Harry interjects, lifting his chin and throwing a wink Liam's way from a table nearby and it's proven now that everyone's too close.

"Think I should tell him we made more music than he thinks on it?" Zayn wonders a while after Niall and Louis navigate somewhere anywhere but here.

"You're terrible, dude." Liam shakes his head, barely, keeping his head pressed along Zayn's quiff. Styled up by Lou, which is odd because she's been mute for ages ever since-

"Think Roo-boo enjoyed it?" Zayn asks, fluttering the subject in his head away, away, away.

Liam stays quiet, sucking in short breaths and furrowing his brows. "I'd say so. How could she not when you're the co-writer. All that intimate shit about flower petals and full hearts."

Zayn bites along his lip, sniffling in a backyard full of fragrance.

He knows the truth behind it all- the song, but Liam's oblivious and maybe that's half okay.

"Sort of, um, wasn't f'r Ruth exactly?" Zayn swallows, keeping his eyes straight ahead when Liam cranes his neck, barely, nipping at the question he knows he's going to ask. 

"Obviously, mate. You're like, in love with me." Liam shrugs, effortlessly, shouldering away from Zayn when he reaches up for a swat.

"Pin it, Li." Zayn grins, hot cheeks the color of Valentine's day and frosting on the cupcakes along the sweets table. 

The stars are beginning to linger in the sky and Zayn can feel this weed of embarrassment begin to curl in his stomach, Liam's nose along the shell of his ear as he huffs, lightly. 

"S'okay. Still came out ace, yeah? Not like I thought it wouldn't or summat." Liam hums, softly, curling his fingers around Liam's waist. "Me boyfriend's brilliant, but 'course I caught on when you mentioned inky swirls in the bridge and went mental when I snipped it."

Zayn doesn't flinch, he just sighs into a sulk. 

"Roo doesn't have tats, mate." Liam adds, laughing, genuinely warm and Zayn melts into it like hot chocolate instead of puffing his cheeks and flipping the world off.

"Couldn't help it, you were sitting there, or, not really 'cause we shagged so hard. More like tottering n'd shit." Zayn snickers, biting along his cheek. "Daft stained sweats and-"

"Oi! Me family's here. Watch it." Liam nudges, squinting, gnawing along his lip as he checks over his shoulder. 

Zayn shakes his head, nodding at the ground, thinking up reasons why he shouldn't let every one of Liam's mates know how he fucked him into  _the song_. 

The one without a name and the one that started with faded vapor and not enough time spent by each other's side. 

And Zayn hopes- or rather he just goes for it because if he isn't one hundred percent accurate-

"Ours, mate," he says, words slipping along his tongue, "s'our family."

**Author's Note:**

> Any kudos, comments, or just reads in general are greatly appreciated as always. 
> 
> I'm also on Tumblr 24/7. [My blog.](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ch3stpaynes)


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